What now?
by Foxtail-Padfoot
Summary: Haven't we done this before?" Tim helps Tony after 5.14, Internal Affairs. My third McNozzo friendship tag.


What now?

**A/N: I am having so much fun writing these Tim/Tony tags. This one is for 5.14, Internal Affairs. We saw Tony help Tim after Cover Story, now Tim returns the favor. I am by no means a Tony/Jeanne shipper, but I am when in canon. Oh, and can you guys help me think of some fluffier ones? I have several angsty scenarios to write up, but I am having trouble thinking of lighter ones and my sister BBP is not helping whatsoever.**

The sound of clinking glass was the only thing to be heard in Anthony DiNozzo's apartment. Tony chuckled at the irony in it, killing the pain of the only real feelings he had had since childhood with alcohol. Coughing slightly as the burning liquid slid down his throat, Tony pondered again, what exactly it was that had gotten him to this point. The beginning seemed fuzzy. Tony could remember turning down Rota… getting a dossier… meeting a girl.

Big, big blue eyes. Pink scrubs. Brown hair pulled up in that adorable ponytail. _"I think I'm in love with you." _Then… fire, explosion, his perfect world turned upside down. Interrogations, accusations, revelations, a punch to the face, telling her what she needed to hear- what he needed to hear, pain, and tears. Real hurt. Why could life not just leave him alone for once?

Just once, once in his life. One happy ending, amongst all the bad starts and dead ends and disappointments. One time where Tony got what he needed and the world did not come crashing down around his ears. Resigned to a life alone, Tony plopped down on his couch, glancing over at the space Ziva would fill on a normal Tuesday. Would have filled. After all, Tony had cancelled their movie nights. Damn, his life was screwed up.

Exactly at the moment Tony picked up his keys, intending to visit Gibbs and the magic basement, the doorbell rang. _Ziva?_ His thoughts immediately jumped to the Israeli who no doubt hated him right now. But sadly, no. It was McGee.

"Probie," Tony greeted cautiously. "Haven't we done this before? What did Abby say this time?"

"Nothing. Actually, it's something you said. To Jeanne." Tim's matter-of-fact tone made Tony want to punch the man.

"Sore subject, McGenius."

"One that'll only hurt more before it gets better," Tim murmured, meeting Tony's green eyes. He glanced down to the empty tumbler in Tony's left hand, which the senior agent guiltily placed on the counter alongside his forgotten car keys.

Clearing his throat, Tony guided McGee to a chair by the couch and he returned to his seat. "Don't tell me Abby was not in on this, whatever this is."

"Oh, she wasn't. Ziva, actually." Tony raised his head curiously at this. Tim continued, turning slightly red around the ears. "I heard her muttering to herself, about you being a stupid idiot and never being able to share your heart with anybody. And, uh, I thought you might be able to use some help, since… she was so mad, and I know you usually talk to her…"

Tony raised an eyebrow, but McGee trailed off nervously in mid sentence and did not continue. "So what kind of help are you offering?"

Tim studied Tony for a moment before responding. "You told Jeanne none of it was real."

"So?" Tony answered gruffly, avoiding Tim's quizzical gaze.

"It was real. Ziva and I could tell, and you hurt more people than just yourself, and we all want the scars to heal, so you need to talk."

Tony's throat bobbed as he gulped slightly, and he looked up to meet Tim's stare squarely. "I didn't think it would have to end like that. I loved her, you know? Real love, the kind you can show and not have to worry because everyone knows you do and you don't have to keep it pent up inside, and you can do all the sappy little things that make her smile and not have to worry about being killed with office utensils, and even when you have a bad day you can look at her and it'll be good again."

It felt good to confess, even if the slight question in Tim's eyes meant the Probie had noticed his office utensil comment. What did he care anymore, though? That was another nail in his coffin, one that looked about like a pincushion right now.

McGee finally sighed, ducking his head. "I'm no better at this whole relationship thing than you are, Tony. I guess I shouldn't have come." He looked back up, taking in Tony's very dejected-but-hiding-it appearance. "I suppose what I should say, is… Everything's going to be okay. One day you'll meet a woman, maybe one you already know, and things will click, and you can have the kind of relationship where you can go to the park on a Sunday or surprise her with flowers, and when you look into her eyes your problems will melt away.

"Let your wounds heal. Lay low for a day or two, watch some old movies, try to remember who you are and who you were. You aren't the same, and I'm not saying you ever will be. But you can try, if you want, or you can be glad with the way things turned out." A smile perked at the edge of the younger agent's mouth as he stood up. "Stew for a bit. I'll lock the door on my way out."


End file.
